Immortal Muse
by MidnightIndigo
Summary: She continues to live on; thanks to him, she'll be immortal forever.  Three-shot.
1. Chapter 1: The Beginning and the End

**A/N: Had this idea off of the interpretation of Shakespeare's Sonnet 65 by someone in my drama class. Hope you enjoy. :)**

In January he kissed her for the first time. It was sudden, when she'd been anxious about finding the people who'd ordered her mother to be killed. They'd been on a stakeout and he'd been sure she was about to have a panic attack. So naturally, that was how he immediately tried to comfort her. He'd been shocked when she kissed him back. As soon as he'd done it he'd thought she would kill him, but she didn't push him away like she usually did when he did anything she didn't like.

In February she agreed to go out to dinner with him. It hadn't been anything extraordinarily fancy, but it wasn't one of their occasional friendly outings.

By June they were officially "together". Ryan and Esposito had made fun of them for, in their words, "taking long enough", and Lanie always wore a smug smile, accompanied by a knowledgeable, "I told you so," when he kissed her in the morgue—despite her best attempts to insist that it was a bit disrespectful, not to mention a little gross, to make out over a dead body. They accepted it all with grace, however, too happy with each other to really care.

They'd been together over the following months, and nothing had really changed. She still acted annoyed while he continued to pull her pigtails. He was still the writer, she was still the cop, and they still worked together to solve whatever case landed on her desk.

The air grew colder and ice covered cars and streets and the grass in Central Park as the holidays neared. He knew exactly what he was going to get her for Christmas. He had it ready by Christmas Eve, just as they were finishing up a case. On the day before Christmas, they got the warrant for the killer's apartment. They headed to the Lower East Side, ready to arrest him.

Within an hour, the killer had been dealt with, Richard Castle was a broken man, and Katherine Beckett was dead.

**A/N: Cliffie...I like 'em. The other two chapters are already written and will be up within a week or two. :D As always, please review! Criticism is always appreciated. **


	2. Chapter 2: Forever Moments

**A/N: This might sound sociopathic, but I really enjoyed writing this scene. I promise I'm not an axe-murderer. And even if I was, I don't know where you live, so it doesn't matter anyways. But I hope you enjoy it.**

**In reply to anonymous reviews:**

**Mia66—Erm...sorry. I felt bad about it after watching "Poof! You're Dead," because of all the adorableness in that episode. Not quite bad enough to change it, but I definitely felt bad.**

**You know who it is—yeah, I do know who it is. I appreciate your...death threats, I suppose? Haha, that's my sister, folks. If you care to say hello, watch out. She bites. xD But thanks, Lizard. **

**Oh, shoot, I didn't add a disclaimer last chapter! Anyways, for this time around, I don't own Castle, except of course the season 2 DVD in my bedroom at the moment. Haha, I'm not funny, am I?**

Beckett sprinted up the stairs, closely followed by her weaponless partner. The frantic _clack-clack _of her boots echoed off the walls of the tiny stairwell.

"Castle, hurry up!" she snapped, more out of anxiety than spite. He panted behind, trying to keep pace. He knew she must've been tense—she only returned to using his last name when she was particularly alert, which meant usually on cases like these. Their killer was a hired hitman, a man who'd been the killer of the victims in many unsolved cases they'd discovered. Castle knew that it was people like this guy that always reminded her of Dick Coonan. He ran a little faster.

The boys were covering the fire escape and the elevator, and as they entered the floor, slamming open the fourth level door, Beckett nodded to Ryan, who was waiting with gun ready.

"Go get him," he said as they passed, his expression, like Beckett's, especially grim. She clapped him on the shoulder and continued, Castle right on her heels.

They slowed as they neared the door. She stopped right outside of it and looked him straight in the eye, as she had done three times since they'd pulled up below the building. "Castle. Stay here."

And for the third time he looked back and replied, "No."

She held his gaze, seeming worried, before she pounded on the door loudly. "NYPD, OPEN UP!"

There was a loud crash, and they glanced at each other. Castle tentatively reached out to try the doorknob, which by some chance of fate was unlocked. He opened it and they slipped inside the room.

As soon as they'd cleared the door, they heard it shut quietly behind them with a creak and a click as the deadbolt slid into place.

Both of them spun around to see that their suspect had already stepped forward and held a gun pointed straight at Castle. "If you move, he dies," the man said simply. Beckett couldn't help but think about the number of times she'd been in this situation, forced to think quickly or else choose between justice and someone's life. Harrison Tisdale, Dick Coonan, Scott Dunn. She didn't know how many times she could continue to come out on top.

"Don't do this," she told him sharply, holding her own gun still, hovering somewhere near her hip. He'd moved to fast to get it up to shooting level, and he could still move fast. If she so much as shifted her weight he'd shoot, and at this point blank range the gun he was holding would blow straight through Castle's signature custom-made bulletproof vest. "Put the gun down."

"I don't think so, Detective. You can't play the upper hand. If you try to take me, your little writer pet will die, no matter what the Kevlar on his chest says."

She was stuck, she knew, until Ryan could call in backup. He wouldn't come in alone. At least, she prayed he wouldn't. She had to keep the killer talking.

"Why'd you do it?" she asked.

He chuckled. "Don't you know, Detective? You two are the mystery solving team who lives in infamy among us criminals. Surely you'd have figured it out."

"Is that really what they call..." Beckett shut him up with a quick glare, and he finished, "I'll find out later."

"So you're a hitman, trained assassin. But why?" she continued. "You can't have thought about what you wanted to do when you were a kid and come up with, 'I want to kill people for a living.' You're a normal guy, besides your interesting profession choice. I want to know _why._"

"Why are you a detective then?" he smirked. "Was that always what you wanted to be?"

Castle's eyes flitted back and forth between the triumphant look on his face and the blood rushing to her cheeks. _He knew everything about her. How did he know?_

It was Scott Dunn all over again, a living nightmare. Everything stood stock still for one long moment, in which a second felt like an eternity and the world seemed to have paused in its rotation. Time slowed to a standstill, as though every ounce of that precious commodity had left the room. Time had run out, for good.

And after that moment of silence, of loss and terror, of hopelessness and of things that would never be, the next moment seemed to pass in an instant to Castle and the man with the gun aimed at his chest. But for Kate Beckett, this moment, this last crucial moment, was the important one. She was the only one to realize, as the door smashed open, how the killer tensed in surprise, his fingers tightening on the trigger. She was the only one to register what was about to happen, where bullet was headed as it moved—for her in slow motion, but for everyone else in fast forward. She dove into the path of the oncoming missile, and it exploded into her side with the force of a bomb, sending searing red hot pain through her body. She crumpled into Castle, thrown back by the power. He shouted in the next moment as he realized exactly what had just happened, a moment to late, as around them shots rang out and the killer dropped, instantly dead. The detectives swarmed around them but he just dropped to the floor, holding her limp body to him.

"Kate! KATE!" he yelled. Her breathing was shallow and her pulse raced. "We've got a detective down!"

He vaguely heard Ryan shouting the same message into his walkie talkie. Her eyes fluttered. She coughed blood and it sounded as though the life left her with every movement. "Did we...did we get him?" she whispered hoarsely.

"He's dead, he's gone for good. Hold on, they're calling for an ambulance. You'll be okay." His frantic voice told otherwise.

She laughed gently, her laughter punctuated by more coughing. "Right. Honestly, you're such an eternal optimist."

"You have to be okay," he choked. "You need to. The world needs you. The victims of these crimes that you solve, they and their families need you. _I need you._"

"There's...there's nothing you can do. There's nothing anyone can do." Her fingers strayed to the bullet hole on her right side, and they came away scarlet. "I know enough about getting shot to know that."

Her eyelids fluttered again. "NO!" he screamed, pressing his hand on the wound to stop the bleeding. "You're going _to be fine!_"

"Too late," she said faintly.

"It's not too late!" Tears streamed down his face and he brushed them away angrily, then reached into his coat pocket for a small box. He leaned down to hold onto her. "Merry Christmas. Katherine Beckett, will you marry me?

She laughed again, but it was strained and weak. "I don't see how you'll get the chance."

"_Please."_

She smiled. "Yes."

He slid the ring onto her finger and then he hugged her tightly. "Don't die," he whispered desperately. "I love you."

"You can't stop it," she replied, barely a breath. "I love you too."

He kissed her quickly, before a gentle voice said, "We have to take her, sir." He allowed the paramedics to lift her onto a stretcher and attach her to an IV and an oxygen mask. Once they were in the ambulance, one man began to perform CPR while another bandaged the wound, allowing Castle to ride with them. He held onto her hand and prayed to whoever was listening.

But no one stopped the flat line that sped across the monitor, accompanied by the continuous whine that allowed him only one coherent thought.

_Dead. She's dead._

Another thought wormed its way, equally unwelcome, into his mind. It echoed as the first one did and he wished he could plug his ears to it.

_Forever._

**A/N: I hoped you liked it! As always, let me know what you thought? **


	3. Chapter 3: Forever Gone, Never Gone

**A/N: Last chapter! This is the first chaptered fic I've ever finished, so that's exciting. Hope you enjoy it. This chapter isn't much consolation after I killed Beckett, but I hope it still makes you smile. It's not quite as dark as the others.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Castle. Pretty darn sure. Lemme check if I recently acquired the rights to the greatest murder mystery show on the air...nope, sorry. I know, I was a little hopeful too there. **

Castle paced his bedroom, combing his hair through for the fourth time or messing with his tie. Anything to keep his hands and mind occupied.

The door swung open with a creak as he was looking in the mirror. He watched his mother peek inside to see where he was. "Honestly, Richard, we're going to be late."

"Sorry, Mother. I'm ready, don't worry." He summed morosely out into the hall. She shut the door and linked onto his arm.

"Don't be so somber," she chided, patting his shoulder. "We are going to celebrate a wonderful life."

"She's still dead. Shes gone forever."

"Pish posh! For one thing, do you really think shed enjoy you moping around? And think about this: she's with her mother now. I know it's trite, but she's in a better place. And lastly, she'll never really be gone."

"Mother, are you quoting Harry Potter at me?" Under any other circumstances, the question would have constituted a laugh. Martha took it in stride and continued without responding.

"You wrote Heat Wave! You created the character of Nikki Heat. You immortalized Kate Beckett through your writing. According to William Shakespeare, that's the only way to keep someone alive forever.

Castle thought for a moment before he kissed her on the cheek. "Thank you for that."

"You were going to stop writing Nikki Heat, weren't you?" He looked at her in surprise. "I saw you pulling down your papers and throwing them away two nights ago. I also took the liberty of putting your newest draft back into your documents from the recycle bin. Were you planning on getting rid of all evidence of her?"

"Mother, how did you-"

"I'm your mother, dear, I know everything. Don't think you're the only insomniac in this house who hasn't slept since Christmas. I saw you lurking around downstairs the other night." She stopped and turned him to look at her. "Have you gotten any sleep since Christmas?"

"Not without dreaming," he replied sullenly.

She nodded in understanding. "Ah." She smiled at him. "She's still with you. See? You're just hiding because you don't your problems. You never did deal with anything very courageously."

"Thank you, Mother," he pouted slightly.

"All I'm saying is that you run and hide. If you try to face it head on, maybe you'll have some peace."

A door opened upstairs and Alexis ran down to meet them, wearing a skirt, sweater, tights, and a black jacket that Beckett had given her for her birthday.

"Ready, Dad?" she asked, latching onto his other arm.

He smiled at her and hugged her tightly. "Ready." They went down to the lobby and got the car.

**}-**

The coffin was lowered into the ground slowly, and Castle felt as though they were burying every dream he'd never achieved. Across from him, over the gaping wound in the earth, Jim Beckett watched stoically as his daughter was buried. It seemed as though his mind was unable to register the tragedy that had occurred and was still occurring right in front of his eyes. Beside him stood the captain with his wife and son, stiff and with his hands held behind his back like a soldier. Lanie stood on the other side of the family, holding onto Esposito's hand and leaning against his shoulder, tears flowing silently. Esposito's expression was hard and closed and he rested his chin against Lanie's head. Ryan and Jenny were hand in hand beside Martha and Alexis. Castle held onto his daughter as she cried into his shirt, while he couldn't help but imagine every tree, building, and gravestone collapsing into rubble.

The grave was closed, and it was finished. All over.

**}-**

_"What are you doing here, Castle?"_

_He turned his head to see her walking in the door of the interrogation room. He wore a suit and tie and had five o'clock shadow. Her hair was much shorter, like it bad been the night he'd met her. It was that night again, but this time they knew each other. "Kate?"_

_"There's no murder to solve right now. Maybe tomorrow, but not tonight." She sat down across from him like she was ready to get a confession out of him. He didn't know what he was guilty of, or even if he was, indeed, guilty._

_"You can't hold on to this," she told him. "I told you about how my mother's death tore me apart. I've missed her for over ten years." She smiled. "I talked to her. She told me that she was proud of me, that she wished I hadn't gotten so hung up on solving her case but she was still proud of me. Even if you lose yourself like I did I will still love you, but I don't want you to do that. Esposito once told me that you had enough information from following me around to write ten books. You don't need me present to write. You have two more books left, if I remember correctly. And you are going to write, got it? Life doesn't stop because someone dies. If there's something I've learned all these years, that's it." She rose and he was standing as well, suddenly like he'd missed the moment. She leaned across the metal table and kissed him gently. "Promise, Writer Boy?"_

_"What if I can't handle that?" he asked._

_She smiled and glanced back at the mirrored glass, as though someone was watching them. "Life never gives you something you can't handle." She walked towards the door. "You're free to go. So go. Write. Live. Now," she stepped closer to him with her hands on her hips, "or I'll call security."_

_"Kate," he said slowly. "You're not going to be gone forever, are you? I mean, this isn't the last time-"_

_She took another few steps. "Of course not. I'll always be here." She put her hand on his chest, right over his heart. "I'll always be with you."_

_He put his hand around her neck and pulled her closer. "Well that's good, because I love you."_

_She smiled. "I love you too." She kissed him again before hugging him tightly and walked away from his embrace. She opened the door to reveal a white abyss of nothingness._

_"Hey," he called quickly. Her head turned to acknowledge him. He grinned. "My mother put you up to this, didn't she?"_

_She just laughed and shook her head. "Until tomorrow," she said._

_His grin widened. "'Night, Detective."_

_She walked through the door and it shut behind her._

Rick Castle woke slowly. He blinked, rubbing his eyes, and sat up from where he'd fallen asleep on the couch and stretched, before standing and crossing to the office. Through the window a ray of sun snaked it's way inside at that moment, and the whole room looked as though it had been specially illuminated. It wasn't even seven in the morning and he was still in pajamas, but he opened his computer and started to type. And as soon as he wrote out his new dedication he felt as though a guardian angel stood at his shoulder:

In memory of the beautiful, extraordinary

Kate Beckett,

my immortal muse—

you will live on forever.

Castle smiled. "Thanks, Kate," he whispered.

And then he continued to write.

**A/N: Sorry to everyone who wanted her to come back, but I write too many stories like that and I've been told I should try something new by my friend Danipinkcloud (go look her up!) so she's dead. Um...sorry. I do sincerely feel bad but I also really enjoyed writing this, and I hoped that even though it was sad you enjoyed reading it as well. I'll be posting a few more things, I've got some interesting ideas, a few of which I've written. Remember that I have quite a few things I've handwritten but haven't typed, so I'm trying to get on it—and meanwhile I need to type up several original stories because I wish to get them published. And if any of you happened to read The Guilt Factor and its end note, you'll know that I promised more Artemis Fowl one-shots in October...I have about five which need to be typed and uploaded, and sorry about that. As always reviews are insanely appreciated! Love you all!**


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